Imprisoned
by Sara Clarke
Summary: Nothing can keep them apart... not even steel bars. Be a responsible reader, leave a review ;) Chapter 9 is up!
1. Let the games begin

Disclaimer: Dr. Lecter and Clarice Starling belong to themselves, as do Jack Crawford and Ardelia Mapp. They were brought to life by Thomas Harris and respectively Anthony Hopkins, Jodie Foster, Scott Glenn and Kasi Lemmons. I think that about covers it.   
  


Timeline: A few months after the Silence of the Lambs, but not quite...   
  


Imprisoned   
  


The first time I went to visit Dr. Lecter in the high-security Federal prison in Newport, Rhode Island, I almost missed it. I had to make a U turn after driving straight past the parking lot entrance, tires screeching on hot asphalt as I realised that the large but inconspicuous white building to my left was actually a prison. 

The parking lot attendant inquired after my business in a less than friendly way, and wasn't the slightest bit impressed when I showed him my identification. While not entirely comfortable with the modus operandi of their personnel, I found myself somewhat in awe of this charming prison, for it was indeed charming. The area surrounding the actual building was, though surrounded by high brick walls, nothing less than an enchanting park with trees and wildflowers. 

Dr. Lecter would appreciate the view, I thought idly as I made my way towards the main entrance. Before being allowed to visit him, I was strip-searched and given the once-over with a metal detector. They were nothing if not thorough. A bulky guard by the name of Pete offered to take me to Lecter's cell, and I gratefully accepted. I was pretty convinced I could get lost in a building like this. 

I'll admit to being slightly nervous when we approached Dr. Lecter's cell. I found an odd comfort in the in the sound of my heels clicking on the cement floor. No cheap shoes this time, doctor. I straightened my skirt, and caught Pete looking at me. 

'Nervous, agent Starling?' 

'Special agent. And only slightly.' 

Not that that was entirely true, but then I didn't owe him the truth, did I? I was decidedly nervous about my first 'appointment' with Dr. Lecter after his transfer to Rhode Island. After the deal was struck with Senator Martin (the real deal, not the one Jack Crawford made up), the doctor had been transfered here, to a room with a view, far away from Dr. Chilton. I was part of the deal. I had agreed to visiting him in return for Buffalo Bill's name. 

'Here we are, _Special_ agent Starling.' 

I was somewhat surprised to see that Dr. Lecter's cell was exactly the same as all the others. No nylon nets, no cellar, no high-tech video cameras, just a steel door with a plexiglas, barred window and a sliding food tray. Pete knocked on the door with his hairy fist. 

'Hey Lecter, you got company.' 

I gasped at the impending doom as Pete swung the door open without any added security measures, half expecting this to be Pete's final action. I should have known better, of course. When I carefully stepped into the small, sparsely furnished room, I found Dr. Lecter bound to a bed by his wrists and ankles. 

I vaguely heard Pete talking in the background, giving me instructions about not coming close to the doctor, keeping my distance at all times and not handing him anything. He could have saved himself the trouble, for I barely registered his words. My eyes were locked into piercing blue ones, the same ones that had captured me months ago. _His_ eyes. 

'Hello, Clarice.' 

'Dr. Lecter.' It was all I could come up with. His eyes had me paralysed. I turned to see Pete still there, watching me. 'If you would excuse us...?' 

He frowned. 'My orders are to stay here and protect you in case of an, um, emergency, _Special_ agent Starling.' 

'If you don't mind, I can protect myself, sir.' 

He shrugged. 'It's up to you. If you need anything, I'll be right outside.' 

So now it's just you and me, doctor... I thought silently. Let the games begin.  
  
  



	2. Just like old times

I sat myself down on one of those plastic folding chairs, facing the doctor. I found myself staring out of the window to avoid his gaze. I could feel his eyes moving over my body, studying me... coveting me? 

_'Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice?'_

I remembered everything. Every single exchange of words we had shared over the past few months was etched into my memory. I scraped my throat, looking to find the courage to start this conversation. He must have been having a field day, watching me squirm like this. 

'You finally got your room with a view, Dr. Lecter.' 

'Clarice, do you remember what your mommy used to tell you when you were little? Always look directly at the person you're addressing. You're being impolite.' 

I hate it when he brings up my parents. Reluctantly, I turned to face him. There was no telling what those eyes might do to me. 

_'You don't want Hannibal Lecter inside your head, Starling.'_

Yeah, well, that's kinda too late now, isn't it? Don't tell him anything personal, never forget what he is... well-meant advise, but what else is there to do when there's a young girl's life on the line? Not only did I have Hannibal Lecter inside my head, he was slowly taking over every part of my life. Too late, Jackie boy. Way too late. 

'How has the FBI been treating you Clarice? I would have attended your graduation, but you'll understand that I wasn't in a position to do so.' 

'They've been treating me fine, Dr. Lecter. They gave me a position in Behavioral Science.' 

'Ah, so you're working for ol' Jackie boy now, are you? Tell him I said hello.' 

I took a deep breath. 'And how about you, doctor? How are they treating you here?' 

'Let's not talk about me, Clarice... there are much more interesting subjects to discuss.' 

I fretted to ask, knowing that my past was among his favorite subjects. Damn him, anyway. Why did he want to see me so bad? He must have known how much it pains me to see him like this, how conflicted my feelings are when we talk. I want to tell you, doctor. I want to tell you everything, but I can't. 

'What subjects, doctor?' 

An enigmatic smile crept over his face, and a dry chuckle escaped his throat. 'Could you hand me a glass of water, Clarice? There's one over there, by the sink.' 

Somehow I felt that putting up an argument over 'not coming too close' would only chagrine him, so I did as asked. 

'Would you please hold it to my lips, Clarice? I would do it myself, but as you can see my hands are tied up.' 

I couldn't refuse. There were no doubts, no internal battles to be fought. His eyes left me no choice. I raised the glass to his lips, letting him sip some of the water. 

'Thank you, Clarice. I've missed having someone like you around.' 

I almost choked. He'd missed me? Me, the well-scrubbed hustling rube with the cheap shoes and West-Virginian drawl? I'd be damned if I'd let him notice my surprise, though. There was no way I would tell him that I, too, had missed his company. Hell, I wouldn't even admit that to myself, let alone to someone else. Let alone to _him_. I was strong. I was resolute. I had my mind made up. There was _no way_ he was going to find out how much our conversations had meant to me. 

'Tell me, Clarice... have you missed me, too?' 

_Damn_. 

'I've thought of you a lot, doctor.' Keep it in the middle, don't admit... 

'Yes, I know you have, but have you missed me? Have you ever thought of me, late at night when the lambs were screaming, wishing I were there? Have you, Clarice?' 

_Yes. Yes, doctor, I have._

'Sometimes.'  
  
  



	3. Samson's riddle

Author's Note: I promise, one of these days I will finish this story and post it all at once. I just have less time on my hands than I would wish for.   
  
  


My head was spinning as I drove back to D.C. My mind couldn't quite grasp the consequenses of what had just happened to me. What had been happening to me ever since that cold winter's day in Februari, when I first met Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I was falling in love. 

I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry at the realisation, and ended up doing both. Clarice Starling, FBI, falling for a cannibal. Jack Crawford would die if he knew, instant heart attack guaranteed. I blamed myself for my lack of self-control. I did _not_ need this right now, just as my career was heading in the right direction. Damn those eyes. 

Damn Ardelia, whose deductive skills could match Lecter's any day. 

'I know that look, girlfriend. You might as well tell me his name right now, 'cause you know I'm gonna find out one way or another!' 

Having a roommate who reads you like an open book has its advantages, but it definitely has a downside to it. This was not something I wanted Ardelia to know, and if I wasn't careful and she found out - my career at the FBI would be over. I decided to play dumb. 

'Delia, I don't know what you're talking about. As much as you would like to see me have a 'special someone' in my life, I can assure you that this girl is still a swinging single.' 

She gave me 'the look', her patented Mapp-frown the likes of which I have only ever seen on her little sister. One eyebrow raised, brown eyes wide open in a look that held the middle between sarcastic and incredulous, lips turned slightly upwards. 

'Fine, you obviously don't want to tell me. That's alright though Clare, 'cause I already know.' 

I felt like I had just poked a screwdriver into a light socket. She knew? She couldnt... 

'It's Brigham, isn't it, Clare? I always knew you had the hots for him, girlfriend, and don't you deny it!' 

Slowly, I started breathing again. 'Brigham?' 

Ardelia grinned. 'I'm right! Tell me I'm right, you _kissed_ him, didn't you?' 

_Yes. Tell her you kissed him, keep her happy._

'Maybe...' I grinned. Don't tell, don't deny. That's the way to go. If only she knew.   
  
  
  


The next morning, there was a handwritten letter in my mailbox at the office in Quantico. Sighing contentedly, I dropped down at my desk and opened it without really looking at the return address. If I had taken to a closer examination, I would have noticed that the stamp read 'Newport, RI' and was dated yesterday.   
  


_Clarice,_   
  


_Out of the eater came something to eat_  
_Out of the strong came something sweet_   
  


_To find the answer to this riddle, Clarice, you need only look in the mirror._   
  


_Regards, _

_Hannibal Lecter, MD_   
  
  


'Mr. Crawford, sir?' 

'What is it, Starling?' 

'Out of the eater came somthing to eat, out of the strong came something sweet... what's the answer to that riddle, sir?' 

He shot her a puzzled look, his brow furrowed. 'Why? Is it important?' 

'No, it's just... I was just wondering, sir.' 

'Well, it's in the bible, Starling. Samson poses this riddle to his friends on his wedding day. The answer is _the honey in the lion_. Bees tended to make their nest in a lion's carcass.' 

'The honey in the lion, sir?' 

'Yes. Now, won't you tell me what this is all about?' 

'Ah, it's nothing, sir. Nothing important.' 

I was trembling inside. The honey in the lion... what did he mean by that? That I was the only sweet thing ever to come out of the FBI? _You need only look in the mirror..._ I was the honey in the lion. And damn, I was proud of it.   
  
  



	4. Dante's sonnet

Author's note: I confess. I am a hopeless romantic. However, I do not mean to write anyone out of character. Please tell me if I've gone too far.  
  
  


'Newport Federal Institute, this is Dina speaking.' 

'This is Special agent Clarice Starling, identification number 2317516. I'd like to speak to Dr. Hannibal Lecter.' 

'One moment please, agent Starling.' 

I trembled in anxious anticipation, taking a quick bite from my sandwich. I had waited until my lunch break to make this call, not wanting Jack Crawford or my colleagues to overhear me. 

'Clarice?' 

'Dr. Lecter.' 

'I take it you received my letter?' 

'The honey in the lion, doctor? What does it mean?' 

'What do you think it means, Clarice? Do you think it's a compliment, or a threat?' 

'A threat, doctor?' 

'_Out of the eater came something to eat_, do you think that means I want to... eat you?' 

'Frankly doctor, that didn't even occur to me.' 

'Good, Clarice. Very good.' 

I fell silent. There was nothing left to say, and suddenly I felt stupid for calling him in the first place. I could hear him breathe at the other end of the line. 

'Will you come and see me again, Clarice?' 

'I might. Goobye, Dr. Lecter.' 

'Goodbye, little Starling. You'd better fly back to Jack Crawford, now.' 

I hung up the phone with a sense of loss and confusion. No one had ever toyed with my feelings this way, juggling my emotions like flaming torches. Yes, I feared Hannibal Lecter. Half the world feared Hannibal Lecter, but not for the reasons I did. I knew he didn't want to have me for dinner, no filet á Clarice with bechamel sauce for the good doctor. To me, he was doing something less physical but equally dangerous; he was trying to get into my mind. 

Sometimes I felt like I had traded my own life for Catherine Martin's. I was still alive, of course, but my life had never been the same after my encounters with both Hannibal Lecter and Jame Gumb. But I suppose you get what you ask for when you join the FBI. 

After my phonecall to Dr. Lecter, I was depressed. There were so many things I wanted to say that I just couldn't find the words to, things I knew he would laugh at if I ever said them out loud. 

Silly little Starling, better fly back to the F... B... I. 

I decided not to visit him again. I won't let you win your little mind games, doctor. Not this time.   
  
  


I was exhausted by the time I got home. I was hoping for a nice, relaxing evening, but my plans for hot bath and a good book went down the drain when I was attacked by a psyched Ardelia, grinning at me like she was the proverbial cat eating the canary. 

'This is _so_ romantic, I can't believe it! I never thought Brigham had it in him - no offence Clare, but... oh my God you are _so_ lucky!' 

'Delia, get yourself together girl! What is it?' 

Still grinning she handed me a decidedly unromantic white piece of paper. 

'It's a telegram, girlfriend. They delivered it right before you got here, and, well, I couldn't help but read it...'   
  


_Clarice,_   
  


_When Dante first saw Beatrice Portinari from across a chapel, he loved her at that instant and for the rest of his life. _

_Do you believe a man could become so obsessed with a woman from a single encounter? Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for her? Find nourishment in the very sight of her? _   
  


_I think so._   
  


_But would she see through the bars of his plight, and ache for him?_   
  


_Yours,_   
  


There was no name. But there was only one person who could have sent this, one person to make me eat his burning heart out of his hand. And that one person was Hannibal Lecter.   
  
  



	5. Quid Pro Quo

As soon as I walked into my office that morning and saw Jack Crawford sitting at my desk, his feet propped up on my file reports, shouting at someone at the other side of my telephone line, pausing only to gulp down the rest of his coffee, I knew something was up. 

He slammed down the horn, beckoning me to come closer. 

'Starling. We need you to get your ass to Rhode Island, _pronto_.' 

Lecter. Something was up. Before I could ask, he handed me a slim case file along with an explanation. 

'An ex-patient of Lecter's was found dead this morning, shot through the head at close range. Crime scene investigators found no clues, no weapon, no fingerprints, no DNA material. We need someone to shed some light on the case, and we need it _now_.' 

'Of course, sir. But why the urgency? With all due respect, sir, but the patient is already dead...' 

'The 'patient' was Madelyn Dumas, wife of Assistant Director Thom Dumas.' 

'I understand, sir. May I take the case file? I'm sure Dr. Lecter would find it interesting.' 

'Starling, for all I care you can take him a golden elephant. I want this bastard _nailed_.   
  
  


This time, I didn't miss the exit to the parking lot. After being stripped, searched and properly warned, I made my way up to see Dr. Lecter. My heart was pounding in my chest as the guard opened the door, and I made my way into the cell. The doctor was strapped to his bed as before, and a chair was ready for me. 

'Why Clarice, I didn't expect you back so soon... people will say we're in love' he quipped. 

'We need your help, doctor. What can you tell me about a Mrs. Madelyn Dumas?' 

His lips curled up into a grin. 

'Tut tut now, you didn't really think it was that easy, did you? Don't disappoint me, little Starling... don't tell me you've forgotten our little deal. _Quid Pro Quo_, Clarice.' 

I suddenly felt tired, praying that this was not going to be another journey into my psyche. 

'What do you want, Dr. Lecter? I already told you everything about my past.' 

'Who said anything about your past, my dear?' 

'I just assumed...' 

'Ah, what did Jackie boy tell you about assuming, Clarice? You must be familiar with his little riddle about making an _ass_ out of _u_ and _me_?' 

'How did you...' Oh, never mind. 'What is it you want, doctor?' 

'Well, first of all, you might tell me about this sudden interest the Bureau has developed for Mrs. Dumas.' 

'She's dead, Dr. Lecter. Her husband found her dead this morning, shot in the head at close range with a 9 mm bullet. No evidence was found, and since she's an ex-patient of yours...' 

'I see. Tell me, Clarice. Who, would you say, is the most important person in your life right now? Living, Clarice... daddy doesn't count this time.' 

I swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the brick wall. _Quid Pro Quo_. If I wanted any information out of this, I would have to tell him sooner or later. And disregard the nasty comments about my parents. 

'My roommate, Ardelia. I love her to death, she's like a sister to me. Now you tell me, doctor.' 

'Oh no, Clarice. How do you think Miss Mapp would taste, if she was to be... prepared by the right someone?' 

That's when I got up and left. Breathing heavily, I leaned against the steel door separating me from... 

_Never forget what he is._

The monster? The cannibal? The genius? 

... separating me from Hannibal Lecter. My heart was burning with rage, my ears buzzing in blind fear. I was fully prepared to walk away and admit defeat, until I came to a sudden realisation: he was jealous. He had never meant to show any malice towards me, except maybe for the usual mind games, but I just hadn't given him the right answer. 

_He wanted to be the most important person in my life._

I stepped back inside the lion's cage, unafraid and ready for battle.   
  
  



	6. His sister's eyes

'I need you to tell me everything you can about Mrs. Dumas, and I need it right now, Dr. Lecter. I won't ask you this twice. I've answered your question, now you tell me what I want to know. _Quid Pro Quo_, doctor.' 

'You are beautiful when your eyes are shooting fire, Clarice. Alright then, I'll tell you what you want to know, without further ado. Madelyn Johns was trapped in a marriage with a wonderful but alcoholic, gambling husband who died in a car accident twenty-three years ago, leaving her nothing but debts. She married Thom Dumas out of desperation, but she never really stopped loving her first husband.' 

'She told you this?' 

'Yes. Confidentially, of course. But now that she's deceased, I see no harm in divulging this information. Now tell me Clarice, what is it about Miss Mapp that earns her the title of most important person in your life?' 

'She's uncomplicated. She tells you things straight to you face, you never have to guess what she's about. She's... sane. I guess she's my voice of reason.' 

'Nice girl, your Ardelia. Tell me, Clarice, does she challenge your intellect? Does she nourish your need for personal growth, for new experiences? No. She's just there, is that it? Just the fact that she's there for you when you need someone, _anyone_, makes her the most important person in your life?' 

'Yes. Now tell me more about Mrs. Dumas, doctor.' 

'I'll tell you something about her husband. Thommy boy could never quite get over the fact that his dear wife was still in love with her first husband. He tried everything to win her heart; he bought her presents, flowers, he took her to the opera. He even made her pregnant, thinking a child would bring her closer to him. But to no avail. Her lack of passion for him turned him into a man of stone.' 

'Are you suggesting that he killed her?' 

'My dear, I am not suggesting anything.' 

I sat in silence for a while, staring at the man who intrigued me like no other man ever had. He was dangerous. He had killed at least nine people without remorse, but I needed someone like him. Someone who could 'challenge my intellect', 'nourish my need for personal growth and experience'. And he was there. And wasn't that simple fact enough to make him the most important person in my life? 

'Clarice, I owe you an apology. My remark about Miss Mapp was... tasteless, if you'll pardon the pun.' 

'It's alright, Dr. Lecter. I owe you one as well.' 

'Oh, you do now, do you?' 

'Yes...' I took a deep breath. 'I think you are the most important person in my life. Much as I love Ardelia... you were right about her. I guess the fact that she is so uncomplicated makes her somehow, well, boring.' 

'Good girl, Clarice. Honesty is a virtue that most people have taught themselves to forget in favor of protocol. I'm glad to see you are not one of them.' 

'Are you, Dr. Lecter? One of them?' 

'I should hope not. Why?' 

'What is your honest opinion of me, doctor?' 

He thought for a while, his blue eyes shining with a rare delight. I was brushing imaginary specks of dust off my skirt, trying to hide my anxiety. It seemed like an eternity before he spoke. 

'You, Clarice, are the only person who has ever looked me straight in the eyes. I think that should tell you something about your strength and courage. I myself, well I can't deny finding you attractive... you are a beautiful woman, my dear. And you have...' 

He stopped there, as if realising he'd gone too far, said something he shouldn't have. 

'I have what, Dr. Lecter?' I prodded him. 

He looked at me, and for a moment I felt as if I were looking straight into his soul. 

'You have my sister's eyes.' 

And I knew. At that very moment, I knew that cannibalism didn't come naturally. He wanted us all to believe it did, that he had been born this way and that there were no underlying traumas. But I knew better, now. The way he whispered his sister's name, so softly I wouldn't have heard it if I hadn't seen his lips move. 

'Mischa.' 

I kneeled down at his bedside, and gently pressed my lips on top of his. The day Madelyn Dumas was murdered was the day I lost my soul to a cannibal.  
  
  



	7. Through her eyes

Author's Note: Credit goes to Jen for being a great inspiration and beta-reader. 

Never had I felt this way. My senses were heightened, my mind recording every touch, every breath, every shiver. His eyes staring into mine, liquid ice melting into blue seas. This was it, the moment we had both been anticipating ever since our hands touched in Memphis. I had come to see him after his his negotianions with Senator Martin had brought the poor woman close to tears, ordering the guards to 'get that thing back to Baltimore.' 

I came to give it one last try, against regulations and specific orders from Dr. Chilton. I had brought his paintings, partly because I wanted some bargaining material if he was to be persuaded to give us the information we needed, and partly because I felt guilty about presenting him with a fake deal the day before. 

He had told me what I needed to hear, but it came with a price. I had never told anyone about the lambs before that night. As I was dragged away by Dr. Chilton, who was too concerned with protocol to listen to me, I tried to give the doctor his paintings. I ran back to his cage, and as he took them from me, our hands touched. It can't have lasted more than a few seconds, but I will forever remember the sensation of touching him for the first time. 

When Chilton finally calmed down, I gave him Jame Gumbs name. But not before both he and the Senator signed Dr. Lecter's 'new deal'. It involved replacement to an Institute far away from Dr. Chilton, a room with a view, and a visit from me. If they found that last wish curious at all, they didn't let it show. They were all too eager to sign, anything to save poor Catherine. 

Of course, they were stupid enough to screw it up even in this final stage. They got the wrong address, and I had to get up against Jame Gumb on my own. I was a hero after that, but it was an experience I would rather forget. In a cellar full of moths, skins and death, I chased a psychotic serial killer. And killed him, in the end. It took me weeks to get over the fact that I had killed a person, and I'm not sure I am completely over it even now. Death repulses me. Yet, here I am, in a prison cell, with a serial killer who not only fascinates me, but who sets my entire body aflame with desire. It's wrong, I know it's wrong. But the damned thing is, that nothing in my life has ever felt this right. 

A shimmer in his eyes, a sparkle, and then it's gone. In a shock, I realize exactly what's going through his mind. Blood. He's wondering how I would taste... in other ways than this. But he doesn't bite. He could have ripped my face off by now, devouring me with blinking teeth instead of burning passion, but he does no such thing. He has no intention of killing me, even though he is already killing me inside. He is the man I love and can never be with. 

Suddenly, I hear screams. The door flies open, and guns are pointed. As in a dream, voices seem to come from all around me as the spell is broken. 

'Let go of her, Lecter. Let her go, _now_.' 

I look up, shocked and slightly annoyed at the interruption. 'I'm okay.' 

'Agent Starling, I must ask you to leave this cell immediately.' 

'With all due respect, sir, but I was questioning the suspect...' 

'Either you leave now, or I'll have you arrested. It's your choice.' 

I left. I leaned heavily against the wall, the cold brick bringing me back to reality. My cheeks flushed in shame as I came to fully realize the impact of what had just happened. I had been caught kissing a cannibal.   
  
  


'Sir, I can explain...' 

Jack Crawford gave me a shocked but reproachful look, shaking his head in disbelief. 

'If you can explain to me exactly why you were found not only breaking the safety rules regarding Lecter, but making _physical contact_ and managed to survive without so much as a scratch, I will award you with a medal, agent Starling.' 

I sat fiddling with my skirt, feeling like a student being called to see the headmaster. 

'I was, ah, questioning Dr. Lecter, sir. He told me about Madelyn Dumas...' 

'I don't give a shit about what he told you! You were found _kissing_ him, Starling. And just in case you hadn't noticed before, Federal Agents _do not_ fraternize with serial killers!' 

Anger flared up from somewhere deep inside me. 

'Excuse me, sir? You were the one who sent me to him in the first place, and with all due respect, sir, you were all too happy to have me swap secrets with him when Catherine Martin _and_ your career were on the line!' 

'I'm going to pretend you never said that, Starling. 

He sighed in resignation, and leaned back in his chair. 

'I'm going to have to forbid you to visit Dr. Lecter again, or make contact with him in any way. If you keep to this, I will not make this an official note, Starling. No one will ever know.' 

I had been defeated. I knew Crawford had been more than kind in protecting my future career, but as I walked out of his office I really didn't give a damn. Al I wanted was to look into those icy blue eyes, taste those dangerous lips, shed my professional facade, and silence the lambs once and for all.  
  
  



	8. Ardelia's discovery

With the arrival of the new morning came a sleepy postman and a vanilla envelope, addressed to 'Miss Ardelia Mapp'. Unfortunately, Ardelia was also the one who opened the envelope, and read the letter inside.   
  


_My dearest Clarice,_   
  


_First of all, pardon the name on the envelope - I am specifically forbidden to contact you, as I am sure is the same case vice versa. I had not expected that they would be this easy to fool, but apparently they are unaware of the fact that you and Miss Mapp share an apartment._

_I have missed you, my dear Clarice. When I first saw you outside my plexiglas cell in Baltimore, I was Dante and you were my Beatrice, walking across a chapel in Florence. You are my Divina, my honey in the lion. _

_Until we meet again, I will savour the taste of your essence, more exquisite than the finest wine._ _I do hope you'll savour mine, to calm you late at night when the lambs are screaming. _   
  


_Yours,_   
  


_Hannibal Lecter_   
  
  


I woke up to Ardelia's gasps of horror and disbelief. I staggered out of the bedroom, gun drawn, expecting to find her kidnapped by a burglar or serial killer. Instead I found her crying at the kitchen table, clutching a torn letter to her chest. I dropped the gun, and hurried to her side. She looked up at me with sad, teary eyes. 

'Please, Clare. Tell me it's not true. It's not true, is it?' 

I tried to calm her down by rubbing a hand up and down her back while she started to put the pieces back together. 

'I'll make you some tea, Delia. Don't you worry, just stay right here.' 

I still had no clue. I made her a cup of chamomile tea, which she gratefully accepted while I read the torn letter. And nearly fainted. 

'Ardelia, I can explain...' 

Betrayal and disappoinment in her eyes, her lips trembling with emotions. 

'Why, Clarice? He's a murderer, a ruthless serial killer... he _eats_ people, damnit!' 

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and turned my head in shame. I was immoral. I had betrayed my friends, people who had put their trust in me, who cared for me. What I had done went against everything I stood for as an FBI agent, everything I stood for as a person. When my father died, I had wanted justice. I thought being a law enforcement officer could soothe my aching heart, could give me the justice I so badly craved. I could see now that no matter how hard I tried, the lambs would never stop screaming. Saving Catherine Martin hadn't helped, and I realised now that no matter how many innocent victims I would save, nothing I did would bring my father back. 

'He understands me.' 

And wasn't that what it all came down to? Wasn't he the only one who had ever seen through my facade, and called the lambs by their names? 

'He's a killer Clarice. How could you?' 

'I'm sorry, Delia. Really, I am.' 

No, I was not sorry. I regretted nothing, from first meeting him in Baltimore to touching his hand in Memphis, to finally kissing him in Newport. Nothing. For the first time in my life, everything seemed to be in place. I knew that I had found my place in this world, the one I had so desperately been seeking ever since I ran away from my uncle's farm in Montana, carrying a crying lamb. I knew what I wanted, and what I wanted was to be with him. 

'Does Crawford know this?' 

Ardelia's soft but insistent voice jolted me out of my thoughts. Does Crawford know what? Oh, of course. 

'Yeah, he does. He promised to save my ass if I never saw Lecter again.' 

We sat in silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. I didn't want to lose Ardelia, I would do whatever it took to convince her that I was still the same old Clarice, despite my feelings for Lecter. 

'You won't will you.' 

'I won't what?' I asked, confused. 

'Stay away from Lecter. I know you, Clarice. You'll find a way to contact him, God knows how, but you will.' 

There was no denying that. In my mind, I had already worked out countless possibilities of seeing him again, scenarios I was all too eager to try out. Ardelia was studying my face, trying to read what was on my mind. And as usual, she hit the nail right on the head. 

'You really love him, don't you Clare.' 

I nodded. She sighed. 

'All I can say, girlfriend... watch your ass. Whatever you have planned, don't let the Guru catch you doing it.' 

She grinned as my mouth fell open, and pulled me into a big bear hug. And suddenly all was right in the world. Even more so than it had been before.  
  
  



	9. A thousand years

Author's note: I'm not sure if I'm not completely out of character here. Any comments on the subject be more than welcome.  
  
  


I trembled in anticipation, my pulse quickening with every step I took. The sound of my heels clicking only contributed to my high-strung nerves, my anxiety rising to the point where I wasn't sure I could go through with this. A friendly middle aged woman smiled up at me when I reached the counter. 

'Identification, love?' 

I handed over my identification, and she took a casual glance before deciding that it was indeed my face in the picture. 

'Special agent Mapp, FBI. Welcome to Newport Federal Institute, if you would continue down that corridor over there, you will be guided to... who was it you wanted to see, again?' 

'Hannibal Lecter. Jack Crawford sent me.' 

'Good luck, then. I hear he's a though customer.' 

After being stripped and searched, I was found unarmed and was guided to Lecter's cell. He smiled as I entered the room, strapped to the wall this time, with his hands high up in shackles and his ankles bound as well. As soon as the guards left, after sufficient threats and a call to Jack Crawford's secretary to make sure it was 'okay', the smile developed into a grin. 

'Pull off that ridiculous mask, Clarice. Brown doesn't suit you, at all.' 

I walked over to him, pulling off my wig and mask to reveal a grin of my own. 

'Really? I thought I made a pretty convincing Ardelia.' 

'Come here, my love. I admire your inventiveness.' 

I pressed my lips to his, passionately, seeking to relive the sparkle I had felt when our lips first met. His skillfull tongue met mine in a heated duel of love, our minds melting together as our souls met and we became one. He would most certainly disapprove of this burlesque prose, filled as it is with the clichés he loathes with a passion. I don't care. I don't have his way with words, the art of turning words into deadly weapons. All I can do is write down what I felt at that moment, as close as I can come to describing it with words. 

'Clarice...' he whispered, his voice husky in a way that sent quivers down my spine. 'We really must stop meeting like this.' 

I moaned in approval, pulling away slightly. 

'I won't be able to pull this off again. Sooner or later, someone will find out and we will be in _real_ trouble.' 

I sat down, staring at my shoes. The truth I had been trying to avoid seemed to be hitting me in the face. As much as I wanted to be with Lecter, he was still a wanted criminal, which meant we had not only my conscience, but the authorities against us. 

'Tell me why I love you.' I asked him quietly. 

My question was met with a dry chuckle, but his eyes betrayed a genuine interest. Thank God, he was taking my question seriously. 

'I told you once before, Clarice. Some of our stars are the same. You may or may not believe that we are worlds apart, but the truth is that we don't differ all that much. We were both orphaned when we were young, and we both sought justice for the things that had been done to us - our methods may have differed, but in the end we're after the same thing, Clarice. Closure. You seek to revenge your daddy, I seek to revenge my sister.' 

I knew I was closer to discovering the 'true' Hannibal Lecter than I had ever been before, closer than ever to the child he had been before his parents and sister met their cruel fate. I also knew that everything he had said was true. 

'Tell me... about Mischa.' 

He seemed to be studying me for a moment, perhaps trying to determine if I my question was born out of compassion or professional curiosity. Whatever he saw must have pleased him, for a moment later he closed his eyes and reminisced with me.   
  
  


'Ardelia, you were wonderful. I couldn't have done it without you, girl.' 

She was waiting for me when I got home. Not only had she leant me her Identification pass, she had agreed to model for a mask and pretend to be Crawford's secretary if anyone tried to verify my story. Why she did it I may never know, she just muttered something about true love and how it shouldn't be denied, but only because I was her best girl. God, I love Ardelia. 

'Clare, how did it go? Did you get to see him? What did he say?' 

I smiled broadly, my whole body glowing with excitement. 

'He told me, Delia. He told me everything, about his past, about his sister... he trusts me enough to tell me things he has never told another living being. I think he loves me.' 

'Oh girl! Did he kiss you? Please tell me he kissed you!' 

'He kissed me.' 

'You're joking right?' 

'I'm not joking Ardelia. Oh my God, he is _so_ great... there's nothing he can't do with that tongue.' 

Her face fell. 

'I'd hate to think where he got that experience...' 

'So would I, Ardy... so would I. It's just that, I don't think I could ever love another man the way I love him. He is one of a kind, Ardelia, and I don't just mean because he eats his victims. He is magnificent, brilliant, passionate. If only he wasn't like... that.' 

'Do you think he would stop, ever? If you asked him to?' 

I shook my head, sadly. 

'Not in a thousand years, Delia. Not in a thousand years.'   
  
  



End file.
